Seduced by Crimson (22 page)

"Then we'd better separate right now."

He laughed, but there was little humor in the sound. "No. We'd better get closer right now." He fitted words to action, stepping right up to her side, close enough to cup her right elbow in one large palm. "This bond tells me we were destined to meet. That we can—"

"Fuck?" she sneered.

He flinched at her crude word, but didn't shy away from it. "To bond physically, to heal the Earth."

"Mystic mumbo jumbo," she muttered.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Because blood that can heal wounds and cure vampirism is so not."

She shot him a hard look. "How did you know about the vampirism? I didn't tell you that."

He smiled. "I wasn't asleep during that vampire attack, you know. Besides, weren't there vampires in Cambodia?"

Her suspicion abruptly deflated. "The monk's journal says so, doesn't it?"

"It raises the possibility."

Xiao Fei sighed and planted the heels of her palms in her eyes. Everything was happening so fast. She felt him lift the bag from her fingers. Moments later she smelled the bitter fruit and her mouth watered reflexively. She let her hands drop away from her eyes just as he brought the small bloodred food to her lips.

"Eat," he urged.

She opened her mouth, and he pushed the fruit inside. He was right: she needed it. And perhaps he was right about her guilt. Every time she tasted one of these damned things, she remembered the ritual in Cambodia.

Food was scarce, this fruit even more so. Which made the time of eating precious, shrouded in ritual, and viewed as sacred. Each Phoenix Tear was given a small, ripe globe the size of a plum while the monks chanted a prayer in the background. They ate one bite with every beat of the gong. Three bites and the persimmon had to be consumed. Then three sips of tea, and three hours of prayer.

Sacred. Holy. And now she popped one into her mouth like it was a large cheezy curl. There was no ritual because there was no one to share it with. All her fellow Phoenix Tears were gone, all dead in a horrible way.

Patrick wrapped his arms around her. She wanted to fight him, but she didn't. Instead, she buried her face in his shoulder and took solace from his warmth.

"I don't know what you're thinking about, but I can feel your sadness and your guilt." He tucked her closer beneath his chin. "It wasn't your fault that they died."

She breathed deeply of his scent. She held it close to her heart, but not so close as his words. It
wasn't
her fault. She'd been eight years old. There was nothing she could do to save anyone. Or so she kept telling herself. "It wasn't my fault," she murmured.

"That's right. But it will be if more people die here, Xiao Fei. You have to help me."

His words were a dousing of cold water, and she shoved him away with all her strength. He allowed her to. He stepped backward to give her room, but he didn't go far.

"Xiao Fei—" he began, but she cut him off.

"Is there anything you wouldn't do if you thought it would close the gate?" she demanded. "I already know you'd commit rape."

He blanched at that, but his expression remained stern. "People are dying, Xiao Fei. Earth is dying."

"Would you kill for it, Patrick? Would you kill me if you thought that would close the gate?"

He didn't even hesitate. "You know I would."

"Well, bully for you. I ought to—"

He moved so fast, she didn't have time to react. She had training: martial arts, self-defense. She didn't even have time to draw breath, and suddenly he was gripping her arms, drawing her right up to his face.

"I've never lied to you, Xiao Fei. The demons are invading. People are dying every moment that passes. Earth is dying. You can't be so selfish as to leave the gate open just to preserve your purity."

She was cringing beneath his onslaught, not on the outside, but inside where her heart was breaking and her soul was shattering. "It's not true!" she said, stunned to hear her words break on a sob.

"Isn't it?" he challenged. She shoved him away, but he wouldn't let go. "Isn't it?" he demanded again.

"No!" she bellowed. "Your plan won't work!"

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do!" Then she drew up her knee as hard as she could right into his privates—or so she planned. She missed. He was quick to avoid the impact, but not so quick as to move his foot away from the downstroke. She might not have nailed his privates, but she slammed down hard on his instep, and he howled in reaction. He also slackened his grip.

She was away from him in a moment, but there was nowhere for her to go. The werewolf sentries outside wouldn't let her go anywhere. And even if she escaped the tunnels, Patrick would chase her. She knew that. He believed in his druidic solution. He believed it would work.

"Tell me what you know," he gasped.

She brushed the hair out of her eyes, only slightly surprised to realize her face was wet with tears. When she spoke, the words were wrenched out of her memories, her voice thick with remembered pain and the smell of death. "I felt it before. I feel it now: the hole in the Earth, the gaping wound."

Patrick nodded. "The demon gate."

"In Cambodia. In Crimson City. Wherever. I feel them."

"So do I."

"But I've felt this before. In Cambodia. The closing started out so beautiful. We reached out to the Earth, all of us. I felt the sky and the sun, the moon, though it was on the other side of the world—even the stars in the heavens. There was stone and earth and water, too. I felt all of it."

She had his full attention. The pain in his foot must be fading, because he straightened and moved toward her. She held him off with a single raised hand. He had to understand. "I felt it all, Patrick. The monks were chanting, but I barely heard. Earth. Sky. Alive—so alive." God, she had never felt more awed or more perfect. Everything about the ceremony had been so perfect.

"Like when we kissed," he suggested.

She nodded. "Exactly like that."

"That's good! That means we can do it," he said.

"No! No, it doesn't. Listen to me." It was so hard to get the words out, so hard to explain.

"I'm listening. Keep going."

"The demons found out what we were doing. They must have felt it."

He nodded, and when she didn't speak any more, he prompted her. "They attacked?"

She nodded. "They attacked. Demons and monks, everybody was screaming. There was so much blood. And I felt the Earth surging with life."

He frowned. "You mean death. Everyone was dying."

"Yes! No!" She pressed her fists to her head, trying to remember clearly, trying to make sense of something incomprehensible. "They were dying, but the Earth was living. Because of our blood."

"Because your blood was closing the gate."

"No." Her hands dropped heavily to her lap. "Because we gave our life to it, the gate… I don't know why the gate closed. It wasn't our ceremony. The demon with the amulet was killed. The blood circle was smashed, and everywhere was life and death." She bit her lip, re-membering, reliving, feeling. "Life—so strong. And death." She raised her gaze to his, willing him to understand. "It was a massacre."

He stepped forward again, but she held out her arm. She held him away as long as she could while he just looked at her. He stood there and watched until her arm grew weary. Still, she held him away. But eventually her strength gave out and her arm dropped.

Patrick was with her in a moment. He tucked her close to his heart and wrapped his arms around her so tight that she could barely breathe. She felt his biceps bulging as he pulled her near. She felt his breath stir the hair that teased her forehead. And she breathed in his scent, his warmth, his life.

She felt him all the way down to the core of her being. She sighed. He was right: they were becoming very attuned to another.

"So you don't know," he murmured. "You don't know what closed the gate."

"I'm just one person. Even with your druidic power, that's only two. In Cambodia there were twenty Phoenix Tears and forty monks. Sixty people, and still they all died."

"The gate closed. Earth healed," Patrick said.

Xiao Fei shuddered. "If I die, there will be no more Phoenix Tears. No more children who bear my blood talents. The ability to close the gate will be lost forever."

Patrick pulled back slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Then we'll just have to make sure that you don't die."

Why didn't he understand? "Our
lives
are what closed the gate."

Patrick looked taken aback. He shook his head. "No. Your blood was just an essential ingredient. It doesn't have to involve death."

"You don't know that." She shook her head.

He smiled and touched her chin."That's my point: we don't know that. Not for sure. For the moment, I'm going with the good sex theory."

She laughed wryly, done in by his stubbornness. "It would have to be really, really good sex."

"I'm okay with that." He grinned.

Suddenly the door burst open, and Alpha Keeli pushed in, flanked by three guards. She looked haggard, dirty, and exhausted, but her eyes were keen as she stared at the two of them. "All right," she half growled. "Which one of you is the demon? Or do we just kill you both?"

From Patrick Lewis's journal.

November 1, 1989

I can't surf. I can't even go to the beach without throwing up. I told Dad not to sign the new sponsorship agreement. I won't be going to any more tournaments.

Mom tries to help, but she just makes me nervous. She watches everything I do like I'm a freak. Dad told me to find a job, one far away from the water. He got me hooked up with the nursery. I'm building water gardens for people, but that's okay. It's water. Dead water that I bring to life with plants and stuff.

It's okay.

Patrick stepped in front of Xiao Fei, protecting her as best he could. Just as she, apparently, decided to do the same. They ended up colliding shoulders and presenting open targets to the werewolves.